


Ice Crystal Festival

by pjlover666



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crystals, Cute, Gen, Light Drama, M/M, Praxus, Romantic Moments, Snow and Ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 11:47:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5162720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjlover666/pseuds/pjlover666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fairy tales do come true. Jazz finds out, that even in the coldest of weathers, some things are meant to thrive. And no where is colder than Praxus during the Ice Crystal Festival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice Crystal Festival

**Author's Note:**

> One of the three winners for this challenge! (and first time to win anything in my life XD) Thanks to all who liked and voted ^_^ I'm taking a cue from my friend silberstreif who reminded me it's about time I stop being lazy and post this here too.  
> Warning: Not beta'd.
> 
> Carnival used: Harbin International Ice and Snow Festival  
> Day: 28th February - Nomad

Walking slowly, Jazz looked around, admiring the architecture and attention to details the Praxians had devoted in their art. All the buildings were carved from crystal, _everything_. Even the windows were a type of transparent (or colored!) kind of crystal. Jazz briefly wondered how much time was spent on making everything, up to the last detail just on sidewalk he was walking on.

Jazz clutched the warm blue cloak around himself, trying to keep what little warmth he had to himself. The hood covered nicely his helm, protecting his sensitive audio horns but the wind mercilessly blew, trying to open his cloak.

Upon further observation, Jazz marveled how the Praxians barely had any protection from the cold. They as well had cloaks, but the cloth allowed for their sensor wings to poke out, unprotected from the cold. Despite how sensitive their appendages were, they were quite sturdy when it came to low temperatures.

Jazz stopped for a moment to look around. He frowned as he realized that he was nowhere near the exhibition of Ice crystals he wanted to see. There were ice sculptures around him, but they seemed made more by fans and enthusiasts rather than professionals. During this time of the vorn, Praxus had many exhibitions and was crawling with tourists which could pick out on which one they wanted to attend.

Jazz bit back a pout. He was really looking forward to this one – there were instruments made from the cool crystal where famous compositors could actually play on them. Too lost in his own thoughts, Jazz's foot slipped on the frozen ground causing him to fall back in an undignified yelp that morphed into a pained one as his helm collided hard with the crystal ground.

For a moment everything flickered and his vision filled with static. His hood fell back and his sensor horns got exposed to the cold. Jazz winced. Just great. He gazed up at the fading sky as billions upon billions of stars had started to emerge, indicating the night cycle was soon upon them.

"Are you alright?" An unfamiliar voice suddenly distracted Jazz. "Do you need me to call a medic?"

Jazz blinked as a tall Praxian (but then again, weren't all Praxians tall?) appeared over him, looking at him concerned. For a moment Jazz forgot his voice. The mech was pretty. He had two huge sensor wings emerging from his back, also unprotected by the thin red cloak he wore. His helm wasn't covered but a hood and Jazz noticed his chevron matched in color his cloak.

"...yes, he's conscious just unresponsive."

Jazz heard the other talk before realizing that it was time to react. "Whoa, hey! I'm okay, just a little bump on the helm is all..." And to prove that he really was alright Jazz slowly got up in a sitting position, wincing.

"I'm sorry, but the medic wants to know if you're alert." The mech stated, looking him over.

"Yup, I'm alert as ever." Jazz said, "There's no need for a medic, really. I'm fine."

"The medic wants to know if you know where you are." The Praxian, obviously instructed asked.

"Umm, that might be a little difficult." Jazz grinned sheepishly at the mech. "I was kinda lost before I fell down, so I really have no idea where exactly I am. But I can tell you I'm in Praxus, here for the Ice Crystal Festival."

The other relayed what Jazz said to the medic. "He insist on upon coming to look you over."

"That's really not necessary, please." Jazz shook his head to empathize the no, but too late he realized it wasn't such a good idea. Wincing, he reached with a hand to touch the back of his helm and felt something sticky. Looking at his digits Jazz sighed.

The stranger didn't waste time and informed the medic that Jazz was bleeding. There went his chance with avoiding a medic. The stranger helped him up to his pedes.

"There's a little cafe across the street." The Praxian said. "I told the medic we'll wait for him there."

"Thanks, but really, it's okay." Jazz said. "I don't want to keep you."

"I must insist. You fell so hard you actually cracked the crystal sidewalk." The mech motioned to the ground and indeed there was a spider-web crack at the place where Jazz's helm had collided.

Jazz whistled at the crack. Okay, he didn't expect his fall being that hard. He then turned his attention to the tall mech beside him and smiled. "Thank you so much for all of your help, but I've kept you long enough. You've done more than enough."

"I live in this neighborhood; you are not keeping me if that is your worry. Please, this is for my own peace of mind." The Praxian said, leaving no room for argument.

In the end Jazz shrugged. Hey, if the mech wanted to waste time waiting for a medic he didn't need, who was he to stop him? "Thanks." He said as the other led them across the street and into the cafe. Jazz couldn't help but purr as the warmth in the room crept under his plating. He didn't even know he was shivering until they took their seat on a table close to the giant heater in the middle of cafe.

A waiter was quickly at their side to offer them a menu. He paused as he saw the energon on Jazz neck. The visored mech had the nerve to grin at him, explaining that a medic was on its way. "Your roads are quite slippery." He finished with a chuckle.

The waiter twitched his door-wings. "You'd be surprised how many tourists say that. Would you like a cloth?"

Grateful, Jazz nodded and the waiter left them to pick their order and retreat the cloth for Jazz. Which left the visored mech alone with his helper. "I'm Jazz by the way." He offered his hand across the table.

"My name is Prowl." They shook hands. "You are quite far from the tourist sites."

"I told ya, I was lost, not disoriented from the fall." Jazz laughed. "Are all Praxians this helpful and polite?"

"Only the ones with good manners." Prowl gave a small smile of his own. Feeling warm, the Praxian took off his cloak. Jazz clearly saw the Enforcer decals and was about to comment on them when the waiter came with a cloth. Jazz thanked him and ordered a standard hot energon to sip while Prowl asked for a kind that Jazz had never tried before.

Wincing, Jazz pressed the cloth at the back of his neck. His cloak needed a good wash now. "So, you're an Enforcer?"

"I am." Prowl said. "Is this your first time at the Ice Crystal Festival?"

"Yeah. Plus, first time in Praxus too."

"With friends or family?" Both thanked the waiter when he delivered their energon. Jazz chuckled at his question.

"Surprisingly, alone."

"Oh?"

Jazz saw clearly the surprise in Prowl in his door-wings. "It was a spur on the moment thing."

"So you didn't plan on visiting Praxus?" Prowl took a sip from his energon, watching Jazz try and wipe some of the dried energon from his neck.

"I've always wanted to visit Praxus." Jazz said, "Just never really found the time. In the end I was just tired of waiting. And what better time than the ICF?"

"I see." Prowl murmured. The medic Prowl called chose that moment to come into the cafe. After about saying he was fine about a hundred times, Jazz finally gave up and allowed the medic to scan him. Jazz saw the frown on the medic's face.

"Prowl? I'm sorry, but could you please go and ask the waiter for some confections for us?"

"Of course." The enforcer said, "What kind?"

Jazz smiled at him, fidgeting as the medic kept touching his sore head. "Since you kinda saved me, you pick." Prowl seemed to contemplate Jazz's words, before finally nodding and heading off to find the waiter. Jazz sighed, annoyed at the medic.

"You should be in a hospital, you know." The medic grumbled as he cleaned the wound in order to expose the crack from where the energon had leaked from.

"Because of my helm, or because of the other slag?" Jazz muttered.

"Your condition is serious! And here that Enforcer told me you didn't want a medic to look you over, at all." The Praxian medic sighed, displeased. "Why are all of you foreigners so difficult?"

"Look, it's under control, okay?" Jazz glared at him. "Just ignore it. When I get home I'm getting the stupid surgery."

"You could overheat any moment—"

"In Praxus during this time of the vorn?" Jazz laughed. "Surrounded by crystal and ice?"

"You are being reckless." The medic grumbled, applying a special metal-fiber patch over the sealed crack on Jazz's head. "You should be in a hospital, under monitor observation—"

"Okay, shut up now."

Jazz quickly ordered just as Prowl came holding a tray with confections. Jazz grinned at him, "Did you order everything this cafe had to offer or what?"

The Enforcer actually got embarrassed by the comment, or at least that's what Jazz thought. "...I couldn't pick. So I got a little of everything." Prowl looked at the frowning medic. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes." Jazz chuckled. "Told you I was fine."

The medic glared at Jazz, putting back his scanner into his subspace. "I sealed the crack and put a bandage over it. It should heal nicely. But you should change it every orn."

"Thanks. And sorry for making you come all the way down here." Jazz apologized, grateful that the medic was keeping quiet. With a couple of more pleasantries the medic left, leaving Jazz alone with the enforcer.

"He didn't seem pleased," Prowl commented as he took a confection.

Jazz shrugged, finally feeling warm enough to take off his cloak. "You know how medics are, overprotective and all."

"Indeed they are," Prowl agreed.

"And so grumpy!" Jazz snickered. "I swear, I haven't met a medic that is actually nice to you."

"That is because over 80% of their cases are caused by sheer stupidity." Was Prowl's dry reply, causing him to laugh.

"Oh yes!"

It was joors later, when that same waiter came to inform them that the cafe was closing that both mechs realized just how carried off they had gotten. Once outside, Jazz shivered and pulled the cloak close around himself. He watched as Prowl flickered his door-wings, both uncovered by the thin cloak.

"Aren't they cold?" Jazz motioned for them.

"They are used to it," Prowl said. "It's thanks to them that our frames run a little hotter than the average frame. Plus, Praxians are used to this kind of weather. Are you cold?"

"I'll just get a thicker cloak next time." Jazz laughed and looked up at the sky, his smile turning gentle. "It's really beautiful here... almost enchantingly so," he murmured.

Prowl smiled. "Praxus is amazing, yes. Not many mechs look up when they have so many ice crystal sculptures around."

"What can I say? I'm not your average mech," Jazz joked.

"No, you are not," agreed Prowl. And he said it so seriously that it actually made Jazz blush. Well, at least he wasn't that cold anymore.

Contemplating his next action, Jazz threw his manners out the proverbial window as he suddenly hugged the Enforcer. The other, as expected, froze as Jazz snuck his arms around him and under his cloak. It was then that Jazz felt how warm the other one was, which surprised him given how thin the cloak seemed. "Thank you, Prowl. Thanks to you, this night didn't suck. Quite the opposite actually." With that said, Jazz pulled before he could make the shy Praxian even more uncomfortable.

"I was just doing my job..." Prowl said quietly, looking away.

' _Even the date in the cafe?'_ Jazz wanted to tease but decided against it. "Still, thanks again. So... I guess I'll be seeing you around the exhibitions...?" There was hope in his voice.

Prowl blinked, his door-wings making that cute motion Jazz was associating with him being embarrassed. "I am patrolling during the festival, yes."

"Great! I hope I get to see you again." A voice inside Jazz's helm begged him to ask for a comm number. What was there to lose? But another part of him rebelled against the idea. He didn't come to Praxus to start a relationship. Actually, right now was the worst time for one. He knew better than that.

"Bye Prowl."

"Have a nice evening, Jazz."

After walking ten feet Jazz couldn't help it, he looked back. His spark skipped a beat when he saw the Enforcer looking back as well. Jazz dreaded the hope that kindled in his spark.

* * *

A couple of orns had passed after his meeting with the Enforcer. Jazz tried not to think much about him, and most of the time he succeeded. After all, right now Praxus offered a lot of distraction. Exhibition after exhibition, Jazz filled his orns with admiring huge and small crystal sculptures. He knew that if he had a friend, or at least someone to share his time with he would have a lot more fun, but this was better. He didn't have to worry about the other finding out.

It was late into the orn, the stars were already shining over the chilly Praxian city. This time Jazz was wearing a thicker cloak to keep him warm, because he planned on staying out later than usual. Sadly, this cloak didn't have any hood. There were door-wings everywhere. Along with red cloaks. Every time Jazz saw a combination of both his spark would skip, but he knew he was building empty hopes in the end.

And that's when he saw him.

At first Jazz thought he was seeing things, but no, it was Prowl. He was sitting on a hill, little glowing crystals around him to illuminate the ground. Everyone was preparing for the fireworks show tonight. Prowl hadn't seen him yet, he was reading a book-file on the ground, sitting on what seemed to be a very thick blanket. His door-wings, like on all Praxians, poked out from under the hood.

Jazz wondered... should he go and talk with the Enforcer? He clearly wasn't on duty. And Jazz didn't want to watch the fireworks alone... But what if he ended up liking the mech? It was then that Jazz realized he was past that. What happens in Praxus, stays in Praxus, right?

With that in mind, Jazz headed for the mech.

"Hey." Jazz called as he went next to Prowl's blanket. The mech's door-wings gave a twitch of surprise and he looked up.

"Jazz?"

"That's me." Jazz laughed. "What are you doing alone here?"

"I'm waiting for the fireworks to start," Prowl explained and checked the time. It won't be long now.

"Alone?" Jazz questioned and tried to keep his hope down.

"Ah, yes." Prowl looked down at his hands before looking back up at Jazz. "And you?"

"Same as you. Came here to watch the fireworks." The Polyhexian looked away, "So, um, you're alone... I'm alone... wanna watch the fireworks together?" And somewhere in his head, the voice growled. He was going to regret this, he knew it.

"I would enjoy that, yes." Prowl gave him that small smile of his and made room for Jazz on his blanket.

The happy flutter in Jazz's chest happened again as he sat down next to Prowl. "So how have ya been these past couple of orns?"

"Busy," Prowl replied. "Around the Festival there is a lot of work to be done. You should be careful. We have a lot of reports about pick-pockets."

"Really?" Jazz asked surprised.

Prowl nodded. "We think it's a huge organization that travels from city to city according to their event. And it's now here in Praxus."

"Well, I hope you capture them," Jazz said. "Sorry you were so busy."

Prowl shrugged. "I like it this way, to keep my processor occupied. If I don't do anything for a while I get easily bored. And restless."

"I'm the same." Jazz grinned. "Though my boredom is easily fixed with annoying the slag out of people with pranks."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes." Jazz laughed. "I'm a rule-breaker."

"I bet you are," Prowl murmured.

The next half joor was spent in small talk. Jazz learned that Prowl lived alone, even though he had a brother that studied in Iacon. And not only was he an Enforcer, he was also second in command in his district. Jazz shared that he was a teacher, which really surprised the other. But then again when he added that he taught music it made a lot more sense. For such a short time, they grossed over a lot of subjects. They didn't have a lot of things in common, yet that only made them more endearing in the other's optics.

Prowl was in the middle of explaining how the Praxian nomads were the founders of this Festival, long time ago in order to honor Primus when suddenly the fireworks started. Jazz trilled happy next to him, recording them.

About fifteen breems later they were finally over. A lot of cheering could be heard across the field. Jazz blew warm air to his servos. Even though the blanket they were sitting on was thick and he had a cloak around him, Jazz still was freezing.

"Cold?" Prowl asked.

"You bet," Jazz said, blowing some more warm air on his servos. "I really have no idea how your door-wings stand it."

Instead of answering Prowl opened up his cloak and invited Jazz to scoot in closer. Eager to get warm, Jazz pressed close to Prowl as the Praxian closed up his cloak, securing the visored mech next to him. Jazz had to stop himself from purring. It was then that he noticed something interesting.

"The cloak… it's generating heat!" Jazz wiggled next to Prowl, shivers finally dying down but that didn't stop the Praxian from rubbing his back under his own cloak to help warm him even more.

"It's a standard Praxian model," Prowl explained.

"Well, they don't sell them in most stores, that's for sure," Jazz said.

"They are sold only in Praxus and nowhere else."

"Right, keep all the goods to yourself. Sneaky Praxians." Jazz laughed, causing Prowl to chuckle.

The silence that followed was a comfortable one. The awkwardness came when both mechs tried to speak up at the same time. Jazz snickered. "Okay, I've been blabbering all night. You go first."

Prowl shifted next to him, seemingly fidgeting. "I was wondering, you're going to stay here in Praxus till the duration of the festival, correct?"

"That's the second half of the remaining month, yup."

"I am hoping that you will do me the honor of accompanying me to the hot swimming pools. I have never been to one and heard they are quite the attraction." Jazz felt Prowl's hand curl into a fist next to his plating nervously.

"Seriously?" Jazz asked incredulously. Prowl next to him froze, even his vents weren't working. "Mech, you have hot swimming pools out in the cold?" He laughed. "How much crazier are you Praxians going to get? Count me in, I love the idea!"

Prowl let go the air he didn't know he was holding and smiled. "You will fall in love with them."

"That's what I'm worried about." Jazz murmured as he gazed at the Praxian.

* * *

Jazz actually heard his plating rattle as he stood next to the hot swimming pool, hugging himself. They were outside and it was one of those rare orns where is snowed in Praxus. That seemed to have motivated more mechs to go out though, not stay inside in their warm apartments or hotel rooms. Jazz both hated and loved it. In the end love prevailed by a long shot.

"You know, you will be a lot warmer when you get into the water," Prowl called out. He was sitting in the pool and had lowered his door wings so that even the tips were under the warm water.

"Is that so?" Jazz grinned at him, still shaking. "Want to offer me a hand? Don't want to slip again."

Ever the gentlemech, that Praxian, he stood up despite the cold that assaulted his door-wings and offered his hand to Jazz. Who only smirked and before Prowl knew it, the other had jumped. They collided with a loud crash followed by a splash. The pool wasn't all that deep, even though both sank to the bottom. Suddenly, the frame next to him was moving and before Jazz knew it he was pulled to the surface. A very none-amused Prowl asked. "Was that really necessary?"

"Oh yes." Jazz purred, pressing close. His frame was warm, but his sensor horns were now freezing. Even so, he couldn't feel better next to Prowl. Speaking of the Praxian, he just shook his helm, sitting properly in the pool and pulling Jazz close so both could be even warmer.

"Hey!"

Both mech froze as a security guard called at them. "Don't you two read signs?! No jumping in the hot pools!"

"Sorry!" Jazz laughed, not at all feeling sorry. Prowl on the other hand felt compelled to stand up, give some sort of wing gesture and promise to never do it again. Jazz couldn't help but chuckle.

When Prowl sat back down in the warm water next to him Jazz pressed close. Feeling bold, he asked: "Prowl… is this a date?" The question was innocent. And a part of Jazz hoped Prowl rejected this… thing that both were nurturing. But the bigger part of him knew he was creating something that he will need to destroy in the end. And that made him hate himself.

The Praxian froze. "Do you… think it is?"

Jazz gave him a small smile. "I won't mind if it really is." He felt an arm around his waist pull him closer.

"I would like that." Prowl said softly.

Jazz didn't feel the snowflakes on his horns. On the inside he was burning.

"Yeah, me too."

* * *

The Ice Crystal Castle was… breath taking. Jazz didn't know in which direction to look at. How mechs had carved the details all the way up in the ceiling baffled the visored mech. But what was more intriguing than this was the fact that this castle exact replica of the Ice Crystal castle form thousands of vorns ago, where the Nomad leaders lived with their families.

The primary colors were white and blue. The walls and even furniture weren't carved simply by the rare crystal that grew in the cold season of Praxus, but from pure ice as well. Jazz squeezed Prowl's hand.

"Prowl, tell me how in the world did we get lost?! There was a giant tour group for Primus' sake!"

"Because someone wanted to take a look in the closed off music room?" Prowl guessed, looking for signs. There wasn't even staff around.

"Hey, you wanted to look at the cool weapons in that room." Jazz countered, snickering. "I'm pretty sure we came through here..." With that, he led Prowl into a completely new room. "…Or not."

"It's mirror room." Prowl stated as he looked around. In every direction he could see his reflection. Jazz's laugh warmed the air. He spun several times, enough to make his cloak float around him and grinned at his reflection in the mirror. He did one last spin and chuckled at his own silliness. Jazz looked at the mirror in front of him and saw where Prowl stood a couple of steps behind him in the small room. The Praxian wasn't looking at just any mirror, he was staring at the reflection of Jazz visor.

Slowly, Jazz turned to look at Prowl and his many reflections. They all paled compared to the original. The visored mech took at the few steps separating him from the Praxian and both looked at the mirror in front of them. "Well, we do look good together." Jazz commented, making Prowl chuckle.

"Jazz?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I see your optics?"

For the first time it was Jazz who froze as he looked at Prowl. "Um, sure… I haven't really taken it off in such a long time…"Jazz bit his lip. What the heck. Someone deserved to see his optics, right? What if this was the last time he showed them to someone? Shaking the morbid thought away, Jazz unlocked the visor and carefully pulled it away from his optics.

His gaze was cast down, he couldn't look at Prowl. He had been lying to the mech and it was getting with each passed orn harder and harder. The ice festival would soon end and Jazz's fairy tale would be over. He didn't want it to end. Primus, he didn't.

Jazz felt something under his chin. The touch was feather like, as if the wind was caressing him, and not the digits of the mech whose gaze he lost himself into once he looked up.

"Stunning."

The word destroyed Jazz completely. He wanted to shatter, right there, right now. But Prowl was keeping him together and Jazz felt powerless. He felt even more powerless as the mech leaned forward, Jazz meeting him halfway as their lips touched for the first time.

And suddenly Jazz didn't feel cold anymore.

No power in the world would've stopped Jazz from surrendering in that moment. He placed his servos behind Prowl's helm, pressing him closer, wanting to craw in the other's plating. Primus, it was addicting. It was life.

And he was losing his.

Jazz pulled back to cry out, to tell Prowl everything, that he was a walking time bomb, that this was a nightmare and he had just destroyed them both—Prowl didn't let him. As soon as Jazz's lips left Prowl's, the Praxian didn't waste time and resealed them again. Why must Primus be so cruel? Why must he torment Jazz with something well within his grasp but he could never call his?

"Hey you two! You're not supposed to be here!"

That finally seemed to snap both mechs out of their haze as they looked at the security guard at the entrance of the mirror room. Jazz felt flustered. He felt like drowning. And Prowl's arms around his waist were the only thing keeping him above the water.

"I apologize," Prowl said. "We got lost"

The guard grumbled but seeing that they haven't broken anything, motioned for them to follow, complaining about couples always ending up in this room.

"Are you cold? You're shaking." Prowl murmured as he saw Jazz's trembling hands when he put on his visor.

Jazz didn't know where the strength came when he gave Prowl a smile. "Yeah, I'm freezing!"

The Praxian just pulled him next to his side, placing his cloak around Jazz to keep him warm. The visored mech pressed close, selfishly giving himself this little comfort. His spark remained frozen in fear.

* * *

Even though the duration of Ice Crystal Festival was an entire deca-cycle, the orns still slipped by, melting like the little snowflakes that fell from the sky. And yet Jazz barely felt the time pass. When he came to Praxus he had never expected to find… this. Whatever "this" was. Prowl was something he had never even wished for, a craving he didn't know he had. And now that he had gotten a taste, he was addicted. He was ridiculously, helplessly addicted and knew there was no one to blame but him. That mech owned him and Jazz felt powerless.

He tried to hold to all the happy times, all the laughs and smiles and little stolen moments he had with him, treasuring them, but it wasn't easy. Jazz was playing with fire and he was already getting himself burned… But he was also setting the other for a world of hurt; Jazz wasn't the only one who would end up stung by this. He wasn't blind, he saw all the discreet little looks, the flutter of the others wings, the shy and tentative touches… The mech was endearing. It only made Jazz hate himself more. He was gambling, but this time he had so much more to lose. And it was getting harder and harder with each passing orn.

But like all good things, especially this one, it has to come to an end. Two more and it would be over. Just two more orns and the fairy tale would end.

Jazz really, really tried to fight it. He struggled with everything he had not to give into temptation. But how can you fight against something when you had no weapons? How could he protect his spark when it was right there in the open, at this mech's mercy? The battle was over before the fight even began.

' _This is your fault!'_

Engine growling, Jazz pushed, pressing Prowl hard to the wall, his frame hot against the other as they kissed.

' _You should've left, you shouldn't be here!'_

The words screamed in his head and Jazz shuddered. It was all the opening Prowl needed as he shifted them, Jazz groaning as his back hit the wall. He was sinking deep, drowning in sensation as his spark ripped in two. He whimpered, both from pleasure and sorrow. His hands scraped against the other, digging in his plating as hot passion pulsed through his lines. On the inside he was bleeding.

' _Coward!'_

"Stunning."

Prowl said it again and Jazz's knees gave out. There it was again, that word. That bullet aimed straight at his spark and Jazz felt shieldless.

' _You should've pulled back when you had the chance!'_

"Primus!" Jazz cried out, begging for something, fighting to keep his tears. He wanted to pull away, to stop and tell Prowl everything, but the words were heavy in his throat. He didn't want to pull the trigger that would destroy all of this.

But, wasn't it already gone? Wasn't it already burning?

' _It's not fair…'_

Jazz's vents worked hard, hot air blowing over the other's plating as Prowl's lips found his throat. Jazz shuttered his optics, overwhelmed. It felt as if his spark would burst any given moment. Sweet torture.

"Beautiful." Prowl murmured against his neck and Jazz shattered. He unclipped his visor and let it clatter to the ground.

' _Please, don't call me that.'_ He begged in his mind, he wasn't that strong, he wasn't. _'Please, please, please—'_

"Please!" Jazz cried out, clutching Prowl.

Jazz didn't feel the ground under his pedes. But later he realized it was because he had them wrapped around Prowl's middle, pressing their frames closer as Prowl carried him to the berth room. This is what the Pit must feel like, because this… being this close to the thing you desire most, yet knowing you could never possess, was the worst kind of pain anyone could feel. It was addicting. It turned you on and left you gasping for air. It was the kind of pain that drove mechs to insanity.

' _Primus, what is this?'_ Jazz's thoughts raced as his lips found Prowl's. ' _Is this what love is? Is this hurricane, this storm… this electricity, love?'_

Whatever it was, it was calling, whispering: come. Come and play.

How could Jazz resist?

' _Game over.'_

Jazz surrendered.

* * *

Lost in thought, Jazz stared out the window. He watched as billions upon billions of little snowflakes fell from the sky. He felt warm, but not the irritating kind – there was warmth wrapped around him in the form of an arm, along with a white blanket. The room was gray, the only light coming from the window.

Slowly, quietly, everything outside was getting covered in white, hiding it from view. Jazz watched, fascinated, and marveled at the beauty that was Praxus, wishing nothing more but for the snow to hide him away as well. Instead, he settled for pulling the covers over his helm and pressing back into the warm frame the arm belong to. He gritted his denta and shuttered his optics, fighting the tears that escaped despite his best efforts. Jazz clenched his fists, wrinkling the covers they were gripping.

' _Dammit, dammit, dammit…!_ ' Jazz swallowed his sob. _'I don't want to die! I want to live, I want to live!'_ He shuddered and felt the arm around him tighten, but the mech remained blissfully in recharge. _'Primus, please…'_

It was around a joor later that Jazz finally found the strength to pull the covers from him and carefully extract himself from the other. He sat on the edge of the berth, looking out the window and listening to the soft wheezing of the other as Prowl recharged behind him. Primus, this was a mistake, he shouldn't have… He shouldn't have made this harder.

He had to leave.

Scrambling to his pedes quietly, Jazz frantically searched for his missing interface cover and a couple of pieces of his armor. He had to leave before Prowl woke up, otherwise he would break. He would bend and tell the other everything. It was good while it lasted. But all good things had to come to an end at one point, right?

Jazz found his cloak under the berth (having no idea how it managed to get there) and quickly pulled it over himself. He glanced back at the Praxian recharging peacefully on his berth… he would wake up, alone. Would he search for Jazz? Will he be angry? Hurt? Sad? Prowl shifted and Jazz's spark nearly exploded. He had to get away. He had to get away from this torture.

Only, he couldn't…

Jazz felt his ventilation pick up speed and only belatedly realized he was crying. He touched his face to wipe away the tears and it was then that he realized he had no idea where his visor was. But there was no time to search for it. Maybe it was a sign? A sign to stay…? Clenching his fist so hard the metal dented Jazz forced his gaze away and left the apartment, shaking.

Out in the cold, he was gasping, trying to stall his tears but couldn't. His legs where barely keeping him walking and with each step he took it felt as if he was dying. And for the first time since he was diagnosed… he wanted to. Jazz wanted to curl up on the snowy street and just turn gray, because everything was better than this.

Mech were giving him odd looks and it won't be long before someone stopped him to make sure he was alright. No, he wasn't. He was so far from alright that word meant nothing to him. Making a sharp turn, Jazz went into a side alley, leaning on the wall far away from prying optics. It was then that his pedes finally gave out and he slowly slid down to the ground, hyperventilating with a force strong enough to cause his frame to clatter.

All of a sudden, he gave a laugh. A choked, broken laugh at how absurd all of this was. Before he was told he needed the surgery, he was the type of mech who never settled, who always preferred living, never staying with one mech for too long… and now? Now he had everything he never knew he wanted and it caused Jazz's broken laughs to turn into sobs. Primus, he couldn't stop crying, he couldn't. Pulling his legs close to his chest Jazz wrapped his arms around them and buried his helm, the cloak falling on his helm in such a way that hid his entire helm from view. But it did nothing to conceal the tears that fell on the ground and melted the snow around them.

Jazz mourned. He mourned the life he was losing, the future he was never going to see and the love he was never going to have.

There, in that forgotten alley, under the cold snow of the Ice Crystal Festival, Jazz mourned his death.

* * *

The weather in Iacon was a huge contrast to the one in Praxus.

In Iacon, it was warm and sunny, without clouds and snow. There were no huge crystals that one could gaze at from any window, and certainly no mechs with cloaks running around, door-wings poking out of them. Here, there were tall sky scrapers and many, many high ways. Though, Jazz mused, he loved Iacon during the night cycle the most. That's when all the lights made it seem as if the city was filled with billions of stars. Like a dream and he could wake up from any given time.

"Jazz?"

Only, this dream was a nightmare.

Blinking, Jazz tore his gaze away from the window, his fist clutching the blanket of the medical berth he was resting on, as he looked at the medic. "Hey, TuneUp."

"How are you feeling?" The medic, a very famous spark-surgeon wearing a kind smile and an all-too knowing look asked as he pulled a chair from the table and sat close to Jazz's berth.

Jazz gave a wavering grin, lips trembling. "Like I'm about to go into recharge and never wake up."

"Are you having second thoughts?" TuneUp asked with understanding.

"Not really…" Jazz mumbled and looked away. "Thought I was gonna see you in the operating room?"

"That's actually why I'm here." The medic spoke, leaning forward and placing a hand on Jazz's arm waiting for the mech to turn and look at him. "Listen, I've done this many times. If you go into surgery thinking you will die, well, the spark might just listen to you."

Jazz winced at the words. "How am I supposed to think that I'll live when I've already resigned myself to my fate?"

"Because you haven't." The medic said firmly. "You have not, Jazz. Otherwise this room would be filled with relatives and friends, giving their goodbye to you. Because a part of you believes you will live and telling anyone about your condition would only worry them for nothing if the operation is a success. And there is a strong chance that it will be."

"Fifty per cent isn't much."

"No, but it's enough." TuneUp said. "It's more than enough. I've seen mechs beat odds far worse than yours. What you have is treatable."

"Then tell me, how many surgeries like this one have ya done?"

"Thirty-one." TuneUp answered.

"And how many of them made it?"

The medic hesitated. "Five."

"…You lied." Jazz spoke so quietly and brokenly that TuneUp had to strain to hear him. "That is not fifty per cent. That's 15, 625%."

Looking sympathetic, TuneUp spoke: "Miracles do happen, Jazz. You still have a chance at living a long and happy life."

Numbly, Jazz nodded, not believing the medic. Here he was, about to die and all he could think about was how much he wanted, needed, Prowl to be here. Jazz was ready to just curl up on the berth, cry and cancel the entire operation until Prowl came here. Primus, like a starved mech needing energon, Jazz needed Prowl.

"… It's not fair." Jazz finally choked out, pressing a hand to his face as his optics no longer hidden behind a visor showed everything he felt at this moment.

"It's not too late to call someone, Jazz. There are still a couple of joors left before the surgery." TuneUp encouraged. "You need support; you need a system that will help you recover after surgery. You need your family. We have their information on the documents you singed. We can contact them."

"Do you really believe it will come to that?" Jazz whispered, hiding his optics behind his hand. "That I'll survive to actually need the support?"

"Yes, I do. And the next time you say something like that I will cancel the surgery. I am not operating on a mech who has given up. Listen carefully, Jazz. I am going in that room, intending to fight and give it my all to make sure you pull through. I am going in there, intent on bringing you out alive with me, but I won't be able to do it alone. I need you to fight along with me, otherwise this is all for naught."

No, no, no. He couldn't do this. He didn't want to do it. It wasn't his time, it wasn't. He was so young, had so much more living to do… someone to live for. Prowl. Tears finally fell from his optics, not caring that he was breaking in front of the medic. TuneUp was going to work on the most intimate part of his frame, a little tears seemed shallow next to that.

"I'm not ready to die yet." Jazz whispered as the tears slid down his face and fell into his lap.

"Good," TuneUp said quietly. "Because you won't." The medic stood up from his chair. He needed to prepare. It won't be and easy surgery. It will be long and hard and taxing and TuneUp needed to get ready as well. "Jazz, call someone. You need someone here with you." TuneUp gave him a kind smile. "It's okay to be scared. I'll see you in surgery, alright?"

Jazz was left in the room alone again. Brushing his tears with the back of his hand, Jazz gazed out the window and couldn't help but wonder for the millionth time that orn what was Prowl doing at this moment… He probably hated Jazz, and cursed the fact that they ever met.

Good.

Still, Jazz's spark clenched in pain at the thought. He didn't want Prowl to hate him. But he needed to do this. He had already let things get too complicated as it is. Developing feelings wasn't the plan. Far from it. Prowl had tried to call him many times, to the point where Jazz had to block his number otherwise he would give into temptation and answer one of them.

But… everyone deserved and explanation. He owed it to them, especially Prowl. If he was going to extinguish this orn, then he wanted to leave something behind.

Reaching for his data pad from the counter next to the medical berth, Jazz turned it on with trembling digits. Moment of truth. He thought it would be hard to write everything he wanted to say.

Surprisingly, it wasn't.

Jazz first wrote to his creators and two brothers, explaining everything, thanking them for being the best family they could be and for all the love they brought in his life. He wrote then to his friends, thanking them for being in his life and filling it with so much laughter and happy moments.

And then, it was time for Prowl.

Jazz's optics dimmed as he thought about the mech… and slowly a sad, little smile bloomed on his face as all the precious moments he spent with him came rushing back, warming him. His digits started typing…

_It's… me. I know you probably hate me. I don't blame you. I hate myself for doing this but… Primus, Prowl, I can't do this. I … can't. I was drowning every moment I spent with you, wanting to tell you my secret. Though, I told myself, just a little longer, give yourself a little more time with him and… and things got out of hand so fast. I thought I could just leave Praxus behind, forget everything, but that's not so simple… not when I left my spark in Praxus with you._

_You know, if we had the time, I believe what we had would've grown into something beautiful, something so rare and precious. And that's what saddens me the most. "If" – that little word holding so much promise in it._

_But it doesn't matter. Because I'm dying._

_Ha, isn't it funny? Isn't it absurd? …. Isn't it cruel?_

_About a vorn ago I was diagnosed with Spark Failure. My chamber is leaking too much spark energy and my spark will eventually fade out. They told me I had two options – wait for the inevitable, or fight and have a surgery that gives me a fifty per cent chance of survival._

_Of course, I ran away. I proceeded like I always do with my problems – pretend they don't exist. So I packed all that I would need and went to Praxus, to allow myself something beautiful and come to terms with what's going to happen. And I decided that if I was going down, I was going to do it fighting. And so, when the Ice Crystal Festival was over, I would go back to Iacon and finally face the music._

_But then… you came. You came and swept me off my feet. Like a hurricane, you destroyed me. I was powerless. I don't know how, but you fired a bullet and shot my spark. I was yours. And just for a short, precious time, you were mine as well._

_I never gave much thought about the afterlife, about the Well of Allsparks. For me, life was here and now and I was too busy living. I wanted my existence to mean something. And all of my life I thought I was doing it, that I was living and existing. But all of that pales compared to the moments I spent with you. I was finally alive! With you._

_Primus, Prowl, I tried so, so hard to keep away, but I couldn't. I tried so hard not to need you, but I do. I couldn't stop myself. Trying not to have these feelings for you was the hardest thing I ever did. And I was selfish and weak and cruel. And just so you know, I regret nothing except the fact of 'what could have been'. We could've had something fantastic, something so rare and precious that mechs spend their entire life searching for and never find it. One orn, I could've loved you, one orn… maybe, I already do._

_I'm so sorry, Prowl, lover._

_I'm going to go now and have the surgery when I finish typing this. I don't know if my spark would still be beating by the time you read this… But I really, really hope it is. Because it's yours._

_Thank you, for our little fairy tale._

* * *

Everything was blurry.

There were flickering lights in the distance. Were those sparks? Was he one of them now? They were beautiful. He could spend eternity watching them. Was he in the Well? He had to be. But there was this beeping sound in the background that was growing more and more annoying with each passing klick and the dull ache in his chest was increasing. Why would he feel pain the Well? Unless he was in the Pit...

That stray thought got discarded as his vision slowly focused and what he was looking at, Jazz realized, weren't sparks, but light from the many buildings of Iacon's infrastructure. Confused, Jazz tried shifting only to still as pain assaulted him. The beeping sound turned out to be the monitors he was hooked up to.

"Jazz."

His name was murmured, sounding so fragile that it could break any given moment. There was a certain kind of desperation in it. But Jazz knew that voice. He could recognize it anywhere. After all, it wasn't that long ago when it was whispering in his audio.

"Prowl?" Jazz breathed. This had to be a dream; his very own nightmare. "Am I dead?"

"No, you are not." Prowl spoke quietly again and it was then that Jazz noticed his brothers huddled up on the couch in the private ICU room. "Your creators are resting in the next room. Shall I get them for you?"

Jazz stared. And a new kind of pain grew in his chest. His breathing elevated, spark spinning faster and faster, enough to cause the beeps on the monitors to increase. "Prowl..." Jazz choked. He tried to move, he wanted to go near the other, he longed to touch him but that only caused him more pain. "Ow, Prowl..." Tears threatened to escape though Jazz did nothing to stop them. "Prowl... I'm so sorry...ow,ow…"

"Careful," Prowl whispered, reaching with his hand and placing it on Jazz's shoulder.

The Polyhexian shook his helm. "It hurts." He keened. "Not being near you _hurts_."

Prowl was silent for a long moment, Jazz's harsh ventilations and beeping of his monitors the only sound in the room. Then, after what felt like an eternity, Prowl lifted his hand from Jazz's shoulder and gently cupped his cheek. Jazz leaned into the touch, desperate.

"You hurt me." Prowl murmured.

Jazz shuttered his optics as his tears finally escaped. "Please, don't hate me."

"You will live." Prowl kept speaking quietly, his thumb brushing away some of the tears but new ones quickly took their place."Why didn't you tell me?" Prowl asked, showing his own pain, door-wings trembling on his back, sinking lower and lower with each passing klick.

"I thought... I thought that this was just a fling." Jazz whispered. "But you were so much more. And I figured... if you hated me when I died, it wouldn't be so hard on you."

"...You are such a fool." Prowl shook his helm, looking sadly at him. "What kind of a logic is that?"

"Mine."

In the dark room, in the middle of the night, Jazz could clearly see how Prowl narrowed his optics. "I don't know if I can trust you again."

Jazz didn't have the strength to answer that. He didn't believe he deserved that trust back. "...Why are you here?"

Prowl stared, gaze intense but mask littered with cracks. Not removing his hand from Jazz's face, he used his free servo to reach into his subspace and brought out—

"My visor?" Jazz asked, confused.

"You forgot it," Prowl answered. Carefully, the Praxian placed it on the counter next to the berth.

Jazz bit his lips, optics dimming as his exhaustion was taking its toll on him. "I meant every word in that letter. Every single one, Prowl."

"I know," Prowl murmured."I have to go now."

This was it. Jazz knew it. "Prowl—"

"Jazz," Prowl cut him off. They heard shuffling and looked at Jazz's brothers. Both were stirring, waking up from all the noise."In six deca-orns, Polyhex is holding its annual Spring Festival." Prowl suddenly said, "Your carrier told me all about it, since it is your home."

Jazz just stared, thinking this is all just a dream and he will wake up any moment now. His spark started spinning, this time from hope. Was Prowl...?

"I plan on visiting it."

Prowl opened the door and left a stunned Jazz behind, just as his brothers onlined their optics.

Six deca-orns later

It was warm and sunny. Not to mention colorful. Mechs from all over Cybertron had come to see the Spring Festival of Polyhex, and per tradition, everyone was painted in bright colors.

Jazz was walking around, visor bright blue along with his frame painted in different vibrant colors, hiding the scar left from his surgery, that will also fade in time. There weren't that many Praxians around, but every time Jazz saw a colorful pair door-wings his spark would skip a beat.

He and Prowl had kept in touch, but not as much as he would've liked. Prowl mostly just checked in with him to see how he was recovering from his surgery, and Jazz could hardly blame the mech. He honestly didn't know how he would've reacted if their places were reversed.

Something caught the attention of his visor. A pair of door-wings, a bright red chevron... Suddenly, the world came to life and everything was suddenly brighter. And there, in the far distance stood a colorful Praxian slowly making his way towards him. Jazz was frozen to the spot, not daring to move, not daring to breathe and risk finding out this was someone else. But not, it was...

"Prowl..." Jazz whispered the name like a prayer.

And then, when Prowl gave him a small, shy smile, suddenly the Universe shifted and everything was right.


End file.
